


and what is in the stars can never be erased

by epiphanistic



Category: aphmau - Fandom, mystreet
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Death, Everyone is Dead, Fluff, Garroth is dumb as hell, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Planets, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Stars, Suicide, just pure fluff, laurance is a star, laurance is really old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-10 22:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18417251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epiphanistic/pseuds/epiphanistic
Summary: based on the myth in which, after a you die, you become a star in the sky.





	and what is in the stars can never be erased

**Author's Note:**

> this fic deals with sensitive topics. please read the tags and stay safe.

Lace curtains do nothing to keep the moonlight out; a shining blue hue awakes it's admirers deep into the night. 

Rubbing his eyes, Garroth sits up in his sheets with the confusion of an early rise, reading the clock hours before he's supposed to. White cotton falls around his lap as uncertainty wracks his brain, eyes squinted as he makes an attempt to wake himself up. He doesn't usually wake up at this time. He wasn't dreaming, either. Perhaps it's just his body telling him he's thirsty, and that he should clear his mind some before he goes back to sleep. 

So, eventually, with a shining innocence, he pulls himself up with a groan to get himself a drink. 

The kitchen is peacefully quiet when he arrives, his socks dragging over cold tile. He yawns beside the sink, bathing in silence for the few moments when he fills his glass with water and enjoys its chill. There's a calming silence, only the streetlights and the moon of the open curtains offering his sight. It's cold. The chill of early spring seeps through the window panes, and Garroth misses the warmth of his bed and his blankets to keep him cosy. He rinses his glass out and places it back where it belongs once he's done, rubbing his eyes again afterwards to keep his sight intact as he carefully makes his way back down the hallway to get back to his bedroom without causing too much of a ruckus. 

Before he can turn towards the stairs, a glint of royal gold flashes in his line of vision, peeking out too brightly behind him to be ignored. Garroth turns, interested, to the front door, staring through the glass at the source of the light. 

It's very late, so no one should be up now. The cities are usually still at this hour, and the suburbs pay no deviance to this custom. The light is insistent, but Garroth can barely make out its shape with the squint of his eyes, so his hand hovers over the lock of his front door for a few moments, contemplating whether it's worth his time. He is tired, after all. Maybe he's better off just going back to bed. 

No, there's something there. He's too inquisitive to ignore it by now. 

After making his decision, he gently turns the handle of the door, and opens it to ask if someone needs help or to find out what the source of this light is in the first place. With the crisp air now softly hitting his face, his eyes adjust to the darkness, and the shape of the light focuses readily. 

A star. Unalike it's stereotype, this star is not its usual connotative shape. It shimmers naturally on the pathway, gleaming with ethereal beauty that reminds Garroth of pouring honey. He stares at it, bewildered, shocked, confused, and doesn't quite know what to do. 

He's tired, he justifies, or he's dreaming. Now would be the perfect time to turn around and close the door as if nothing had happened. 

But when the star begins to move, Garroth steps back instinctively, surprised and frowning, but unwilling to go away now. It's not slow - probably walking speed, a jog to catch up if he left it too late - but it's nighttime, he's probably dreaming, and it makes much more sense to go back to bed than to follow something that's most likely a figment of his imagination. 

So he concludes that, if this really is a dream, it doesn't matter if he follows it or not. He'll wake up in his bed tomorrow, safe and comfortable. It only makes sense. 

Quickly, not wanting to lose the gleaming star, he steps onto the stone without caring, not even putting proper clothes on, not even wearing shoes, and follows whatever it is with the peaking curiosity of a child in the woods. 

He hopes nobody sees him as he speed-walks down the pavement in his pyjamas, but luckily for him, the streets are barren in the ungodly hours of the early morning. 

Gradually, the star leads him off of the roads, down towards the woods by the railway tracks in which he'd often see dog walkers on his commute to class everyday. Dew seeps into the fabric of his socks, wetting his feet, but he's come too far to turn back now. He keeps his distance from the star, admittedly afraid to touch it, and watches his step for things hidden in the foliage. He hopes it won't go on for much longer. Although he's not as tired as he was a few minutes ago, too much walking is going to take a toll on him, dream or not. 

Luckily for him, the star comes to a stop on the outskirts of a clearing, levitating in the air, but no longer leading him anywhere. Garroth waits for something to happen, but it's rather anticlimactic when it remains in the same stature, frozen in the air.

He can't just go home. The journey isn't worth it if something doesn't happen. He contemplates waiting a little longer just in case, but he's too impatient. He wants to touch it. Knowing it goes against everything his mother and father taught him, he begrudgingly refuses to hesitate and cautiously approaches it, dropping to his knees in front of it. He looks at his fingers first before he outstretches them, arm moving delicately towards the shining object, the feeling of certain danger pumping adrenaline through his blood. 

When he meets its surface, it doesn't burn him like he thought it would. Instead, it's warm, pleasantly so, and he moves his hand across its (somehow solid) exterior, enjoying the heat in his previously cold fingertips. 

He doesn't really notice it's increasing brightness as he explores its odd texture, only realising so when it's so strong that he has to shield his eyes with his arm. It only grows, light expanding over the corners of his eyesight, and he squeezes his eyes shut to protect his vision as he stands up and tries to stumble away from it. 

The light never ceases; it grows and expands infinitely until, eventually, it's black. 

Slowly, gingerly, Garroth opens his eyes, and what he sees is not his hometown. It's beautiful, rather. He's standing in a nebula, heavenly purples and blues and pinks as far as his peripheral vision let's him see, freckled with stars that go on for miles, gratifying silence filling his ears. 

He can't appreciate it. All he feels is dread. Something is wrong - very very wrong. He isn't tired at all anymore. He's even convinced he's not even dreaming. Something about floating in space makes him wide awake. This... this is not sleeping. 

"Hello?" He calls, mind not expecting an answer, "is anyone there?" 

His head turns, searching for an explanation for his location. No answer is returned. This has to be a dream. Anxiety makes a small settlement within him, growing enough to form butterflies in his stomach. This isn't safe, he thinks, something about this isn't right. Panic overtakes him, and he calls out again and again, but it's to no avail when the aching silence leaves him more distressed, more terrified, each time he speaks. 

Trying to move, he turns more, looking down to see that he isn't on solid ground. Rather, he's floating, infinite sky beneath his feet. If he were standing, he would have stumbled backwards in shock, but all he can do is let out a yelp of surprise, and try to avert his eyes from the pit he could fall in if gravity suddenly decides to do its job. He yells out again to no one in particular, hoping against hope for help, or - even better - a way out. 

Just as he begins to give in, to start looking for an escape route on his own (or a way to wake up if this still is a dream), quietly, as if trying to hide the fact, there's a giggle behind him. Small, but it's there. Loud enough to be obvious. 

Garroth turns - eyebrows etched into a frown - wondering where it could have possibly come from in a place like this. It's empty. A hopeless nothingness that leaves him even more haunted than just a few moments ago. There isn't even anywhere to hide. Whatever it is is scaring him on purpose. 

After just seconds of turning on the spot aimlessly, there's a burst of laughter, and Garroth is set on finding the source. There's nothing. Everywhere he looks, there's more stars, gleaming in gold glory, beautiful in their own right, but no person for the laughter to originate from. The giggling heightens at his confusion, but it's not demeaning, it's one that Garroth feels like he should laugh along with if he were friends with whomever it belongs to. If. 

"Hello?" He repeats, eyes darting all over frantically. No reply. His distress is obvious now, but the laughter does not cease, and he's left calling out hopelessly for someone that might not even be real - that might just be his brain compensating for his perplexity. 

Suddenly, a star a little bigger and brighter than the others floats into Garroth's line of vision. It's where the laughter is coming from, that much he can tell, but other than that he's clueless in who or _what_ it is. 

Before Garroth can call out again, or even try to figure out _what the hell is happening,_ the star twinkles even brighter, almost vibrating, and morphs easily into a boy, porcelain and angelic and radiating a gold shimmer, floating upside down as he clutches his stomach in laughter. Garroth is speechless. He can't move, can't call out, too mesmerised by the boy, watching him float so effortlessly through the microcosm in silk pyjamas with happiness seeping into Garroth's veins. 

Eventually, the boy's laughter dies down, and as he wipes the corner of his eye of tears with his soft fingers, he looks at Garroth, eyes creased with a smile. "Oh, that was so cute," he expresses, still upside down and making no effort to address the fact, "you make me laugh."

"What... what?" Garroth stammers, helpless, "who are you? _What_ are you? Where am I?"

The boy, still smiling, offers a look that could be sympathy, but probably isn't. "I'm so sorry, rookies are so adorable; you are so cute when you're confused. I can't help but laugh." He wipes his eyes again with the sleeve of his pyjamas, voice velvet and silky. "I should really introduce myself." 

"Mmm, maybe," Garroth says, voice dripping with sarcasm. He's desperate for answers now. What is this place? 

The boy ignores him. "I am Laurance, a star. You have probably been able to see me from Earth. There are billions of stars in the sky, just like me, and now, because you are here, you are one, too. Isn't that fun?"

Garroth has to take a moment to process that. He blinks. "A... what? You're a _what? I'm_ a what? You're joking," he says, unbelieving, but he has to remind himself that this is still a dream, and that he'll wake up in his bed tomorrow morning the same as always, with the sun seeping in and his alarm calling for his consciousness, and that he can stay calm because of it, "what do you mean?" 

The boy - Laurance - finally turns upright, crossing his legs as he floats, his hands waiting patiently in his lap. His hair brown floats gently around his tan skin, softly, but the atmosphere is windless. Everything is still, quiet, peaceful. Garroth puts his hand to his own blond hair in distress to find his is doing the same. 

"You are in the stars now, a part of them, even, and that's okay. It is natural," Laurance says. Garroth still doesn't understand, "that's where you're meant to be now. I am here as your introduction, your bridge, to ease you into your fate before you meet the other stars. You, sir, are dead, just like the rest of us are."

"I'm dreaming," Garroth thinks aloud instantly. 

"Quite the opposite, actually," Laurance corrects, "your name... Garroth, is that right?" 

Garroth does not even question how Laurance knows his name. He nods. 

"Garroth, this is the afterlife," Laurance tells him, and the only thing Garroth can think currently is just a simple 'huh', his brain short-circuiting, "when we die, we become a star. Like the constellations back on Earth that you see every night, those were once humans, too. Your star waits for its soulmate, and eventually (when you have both died) you meet together here to spend eternity as one star. Stars need two souls to flourish, so your soulmate completes your star with you. Once I have told you everything you need to know, I will pass you onto one of the planets, and they will tell you whether your soulmate is already among us and waiting for you, or whether you will have to wait for their death on Earth."

"But I'm not dead," Garroth tries, emotions stuck in nothing but denial. 

Laurance smiles, "I know it's confusing, but what you have experienced before your arrival here was not you in your body, but your own soul. It's what I am seeing now, and it's what you see when you look at me. You have died in the real world, and the star that led you here was your gate between life and death."

"How do I know this is real?" Garroth questions, cogs turning in an attempt to process all of the new information. 

"If you wait here long enough, you find that you will not wake up," is all Laurance says with a shimmering beam. It's terrifying to Garroth. It feels like a trap. 

"What do you mean by my 'soulmate'? How does that work? Have- have you met yours?" He asks, wanting to know everything, wanting to learn more so he can decide whether this is reality or something very, very fake. 

"Of course not, otherwise I would be with them," Laurance smiles sadly, the reminder of something he doesn't have yet obviously painful for him to recall, "they are still alive in the world, or they might not have even been born yet. I'm one of the older ones that have been waiting the longest. I've been appointed this job because I've been here for so long, so I have had lots of experience in comforting new stars when they have to wait for their other half. They decided to choose me as the first star for you to meet, as well as a few others introducing other newly deceased, because we are very calm and soothing. When I meet my soulmate- if I ever do, it almost seems unreal now- I will be long gone. I will be too happy to do this job anymore. I will want to be with them all the time; waiting for so long has made me much too emotional." 

"It's very soothing when you laugh at me for not knowing what the hell is going on," Garroth says sarcastically. Now is not the time, he knows, but he may as well express his opinion while he can. 

Laurance chuckles again, honey-like. "When you do this for centuries, it becomes your own amusement. I love seeing your faces when you're puzzled. It's very cute."

"Centuries?" Garroth asks, mouth falling apart, "how long have you been waiting for your soulmate?" Garroth asks, feeling upset at Laurance's expense, hoping he doesn't have to wait as long for his. 

"I can't remember - what year is it now on Earth?" He asks, head cocking.

"Twenty-seventeen," Garroth answers. 

"Ah!" Laurance, exclaims, "I still don't understand your modern way of counting years. Newbies have tried to explain it to me, but I'll never understand it." 

"You're from BC?" Garroth asks, unbelieving. That's a billion lifetimes away, something Garroth could never dream of. Waiting that long must be torturous. 

"Yes, if that's what you call it. I honestly don't think Christ is that big of a hot-shot. To have the entirety of modern time according to your birth - that's a little overrated. The religion doesn't even make sense," he admits. 

"You've _met_ him?" Garroth asks, but he's not asking for confirmation, he's asking for him to deny the fact, so he doesn't spontaneously combust over how stupid it all feels. 

"He's dead, isn't he?" Laurance asks, and then he laughs again, "I'm the one who introduced him! This has been my job for eons!"

"Where- when are you from?" Garroth asks desperately. This is getting foolish now, he thinks, this guy is literally older than Jesus. How is he ever meant to comprehend that sort of age?

"Greece," Laurance reminisces, "when the Gods were at their prime. I miss it so much; I don't feel the heat of the sun much anymore. People from your time tell me it's even warmer now." 

"You're from Ancient Greece," Garroth breathes. Unbelievable. No way. How can he not have aged, or even have waited that long without going insane?

"Who are you calling ancient?" Laurance snaps, but there's a joke in his voice. It's light-hearted, like he knows he's very, very, uncomfortably old, and finds it rather amusing. 

"Sorry," Garroth apologises, and then he stumbles over what to say - what question to ask first, because the sheer ridiculousness of it all is too overwhelming, "but you don't speak like you're from then. You speak decent modern English."

"I spend a lot of time around people from your age; that's how you make new friends here! And besides, we do not speak Earth languages here, just the language of the stars. You can understand it now. With a job like mine, you learn the language of the modern era," Laurance tells him. 

Huh. So, he's dead. Wait- that makes no sense. He woke up in his bed as usual. Seems pretty alive to him. 

"How did you die?" He asks first, hoping that question can answer some of his others. 

"I was nineteen when I died," Laurance explains, "cursed by my father's enemy. You younger ones tell me it was a disease, but no matter how much you explain your modern medicine to me, I refuse to believe it. Do you remember how you died?" 

"I didn't die- I don't remember. I just followed the star here," Garroth answers. 

"Was it nighttime?" Laurance asks. 

Garroth nods. 

"In your sleep, then," Laurance says, and the bluntness of it is the only thing Garroth has ever heard that is truly harrowing, knowing that when he woke up in the middle of the night, he was already dead, and that his mother and father will find him dead in his bed in the morning. He can't bear to think that all of this is true. It's horrifying, haunting, "that's the best way to go." 

Garroth frowns. He knows now. His brain remembered something he wishes he didn't, the thought of sleep is an easy reminder, "I took pills," he says, despair filling him up. It's embarrassing. A selfish thing to do. Awful. 

"Pills? I think I've heard people talking about them," Laurance comments. 

"Sleeping pills - they help you if you can't sleep. I took too many on purpose," Garroth says, looking down at his hands, suddenly feeling very ashamed, eyes watering, "I shouldn't have done it - my family- I-"

"Oh, you poor thing," Laurance floats over, wiping Garroth's fresh tears with his thumb for him, "it wasn't your fault- the stars called for you." 

"What- what do you mean?" Garroth asks, trying to fight back more tears. The guilt of leaving everyone behind is horrible- so evil of him. 

"It was your time," Laurance explains, "you die the same age as your soulmate. The galaxy used your mental imbalances as a way for you to get to your soulmate when you're ready."

"That's- that's so messed up-"

"Shh," Laurance comforts, and Garroth supposes Laurance is right- that he is the most calming to talk to and there must have been billions of people just as upset as he is, "I know. The galaxy brings so much pain, but it's for the greater good. Your life ending off of your own accord just means that your soulmate is already here; that they're waiting for you. Your body was not going to die on its own, so the universe had to find an alternative. It's horrible, it's romanticism, it's immoral, but it's fate. Once our time is up, I will bring you to find your soulmate. You will live as one for the rest of time, and it is worth all of the pain."

"But my family... my parents..." Garroth asks, not even trying to prevent the tears anymore. He just lets them slip past his cheeks. 

"I know they will suffer, but when it's their time you can find them again, and they'll understand that it wasn't your choice to make," Laurance tells him, "how old are you?" 

"Nineteen," he answers. He knows Laurance is trying to pretend that he isn't very aware that they would be same age on Earth, and that that actually means something of hope in the afterlife, and that there's a possibility of them having a connection. Garroth pushes it away. He doesn't want a soulmate, anyway. He doesn't even want to be here. He wants to go back home, reverse the mistake he made and tell his family and friends that he loves them. He doesn't want to know that he won't see them again until they die, and that they have to live believing that he ended his own life because he couldn't live on, and not because the galaxy put those thoughts in his brain just so he could meet his soulmate on time. It's unjust. Not fair. A corrupt system. How can so much pain and grief be worth it in the end? 

"There are many people that age here, you are sure not to spend the beginning of your afterlife alone. Don't lose hope, you will be able to see your family again in the future. I saw my parents again after their own deaths, but they have been located elsewhere in the galaxy so I do not see them often because of my job, though I can if I want to. Your family will mourn you, yes, but you will meet again. That is undeniable." 

"I- I don't want that. I want to go home," Garroth pleads, not caring that he's being childish, essentially throwing a tantrum because he's dead and he wants to be alive again. He really didn't want to die. He doesn't care about meeting his soulmate. They've waited however long for him - they can wait longer. It's not like they'll die or anything. They're already dead, anyway. 

"I know, I know." Laurance is hugging him now, small hands running up and down his back. "I'm sorry; I know you miss your home, but your soulmate, if they're here, they've been waiting so long they probably think of you as an angel - the best person to ever live. It would be unfair to them for you to be spiteful about not being able to return. I know you will be upset, but eventually you will come to accept this as your new home. You will see your family again. Appreciate that, but also appreciate what you have now. Love your soulmate now, and when it's your family's time you can share that love with them. Your family wouldn't want you to be upset in the afterlife; they'd want you to enjoy it. You understand that." 

Garroth supposes he's right. He can guess that Laurance would be crushed if, after all these years, his soulmate only spoke about how much they didn't want to be here. Garroth's soulmate is probably waiting for him, and he doesn't want to ruin the foundations of their potential relationship before it's even started by wishing he was somewhere else. As much as he misses home, there will always be an area of solitude for him to cry on his own, much like Earth. God, it sounds like such a waste of time. How much he regrets feeling so hopeless all the time - so unwilling to enjoy what he had while he had it. That's the issue, he supposes, you never know how good you have it until it's gone. Forever. 

There's nothing he can do about it now. 

He cries for a few moments more, resisting the temptation to drop to his knees (if that's even possible when he's floating) and scream in the hope that it gets him where he wants to be. 

He shouldn't have been so stupid. Why did he have to follow that star? He should have just gone back to bed. Nothing about this is heaven. How could there ever be anything good about the afterlife when he'll never truly feel at peace - only yearning for his old life on Earth? There's no paradise, only the lesser of two evils. If anyone here thinks he's ever going to stop missing what life he could have lived back home, they're sorely mistaken. The only way to live after death is with a mask.

Garroth wipes his tears once he gets fed up of crying, hoping he can wipe away some of the spite, too. He pulls away from the hug, feeling rather pathetic, and sucks it up to deal with later. 

Laurance offers him a look of knowing empathy, feeling his pain, recognising the heartache of trying to reach for something just out of your grasp, and gives him a sad look. "I understand. I know what you are going through. All you have to do is keep going, and eventually you will realise that this is okay, and you will make friends you never thought you would. It isn't awful. It takes adjustment, but you'll grow to accept it for what it is, and that's when you start to enjoy yourself. You can take as long as you want to mourn your old life, but after that, you are free." 

Garroth nods. It's logical. When someone close to you dies, you grieve. It only makes sense that you mourn when you lose your own life, too. 

Laurance smiles in sympathy, eyes warm and safe. Garroth can trust what he says. There's an inexplicable wisdom resonating within him, the cumulative knowledge of having existed for hundreds of thousands of years enough to tell Garroth that Laurance knows what he's talking about. Garroth aspires to know that much - to have experienced so many things that he just knows the right way to act no matter the situation. It must be so difficult. He's probably seen so much, comforted people through so many different reactions, experienced so much heartbreak. Having to repeat the words 'you are dead' so many times with a smile and waiting for their faces to fall. He must be so mentally strong. Garroth couldn't bear it. He'd cry every time at how bleak it all is. 

Because, honestly, he would rather there be no afterlife at all - to just cease to exist after you die - than to have to live like this. He can't believe this is it. It's magical, it's obviously a form of paradise, but it masks over everyone's emotions unwaveringly. 

Although, Garroth supposes every afterlife is going to be like that. Everyone is going to miss their old life. If this was different, perfectly suited to his deepest desires in life, he'd still feel the same. He shouldn't take it out on this place in particular. Laurance got over it - he even loves it now. That'll happen to Garroth, he just has to try to move on. Eventually, it has to work. 

"Okay," he says after a while, nodding, "I get it. There's nothing I can do about it, so I might as well enjoy it." 

Laurance smiles, genuinely this time. "Exactly. Are you ready to go?" 

"Go where?" He asks. He knows he'll probably meet his soulmate, but he doesn't actually know where that'll happen. This nebula seems like a galaxy on its own - the end of space. 

"To meet one of the planets. They control fate, and they know everything. They will bring you to your soulmate," Laurance explains. Garroth wants to wonder whether Laurance is going to take him to an actual, scaled planet (and how terrifying that would be), but he doesn't get the chance to when Laurance takes his hand and pulls him through another star, much like the one that led him here the first time. He recognises the sensation; just pure, liquid light. Nothing else. 

This time, when he opens his eyes, the colours are a little warmer. There's reds, oranges, yellows, glittered and twinkling with stars, all small or large. Garroth wonders if they're people like Laurance, or if these are just for show. Probably to make things look impressive. He's sure Laurance could pull him through another star and there would just be normal people this time, no twinkling lights. Garroth expects that's the reality of it. 

Laurance releases his hand, looking around just as he is, smiling fondly at its beauty. He nods his head towards another star suggestively, and when Garroth looks at it, confused, it takes its morph into a person like Laurance, as if on cue. Can Garroth do that? Isn't this person supposed to be a planet, not a star? It's probably a trick for dramatic effect. 

The person standing before him is so beautiful he almost has to look away. The woman is perfect, and not in the metaphorical way. She has no flaws. Literally. Glowing, chocolate skin. Perfect, bouncy brown curls falling around her shoulders. Cheeks tinted rose, green eyes so breathtaking he feels intimidated. 

She smiles warmly at Laurance, as if he were an old friend. He probably is. 

"Laurance, it's wonderful to see you again. I see you have brought me a new star," She says, and even her voice is impeccably smooth. Smiling at Garroth this time, she leaves him conflicted as to whether he should smile back or offer his life to her. She seems so god-like. So unblemished. He feels immediately inferior. 

Laurance nods. "I have. It's wonderful to see you too. This is Garroth, nineteen." 

"It's lovely to meet you, Garroth," she remarks, bearing a cheerful smirk. 

He is mesmerised. Hypnotised by her beauty. "Uh-" he stumbles over his words feebly, unable to form a coherent sentence, "you too, uh..."

"Oh, I haven't even introduced myself," she says, as if she could ever make a mistake, "my name is Venus, the second planet."

"Venus?" He asks, dazed. This is the physical embodiment of the planet Venus. He is talking to an actual planet. 

He has gone insane. 

"Yes, the only female planet in the solar system," she tells him kindly. 

"Well- uh- it's an honour to meet you, Venus, I-"

"You too," she says, cutting him off before he can ramble for too long. She must get that a lot - her intense elegance is enough for anyone to forget how to speak comprehensively, "it will be a pleasure to know you," she says. Garroth nods to return the statement, and she smiles her perfect smile again in approval, "Laurance, you should lead him to his new home so he can settle in before we eat. He will need some adjusting before he meets the other stars."

"But where is his soulmate?" Laurance asks, cocking his head slightly, his radiance following him, "He ended his own life, didn't he? Doesn't that mean they are waiting for him?" 

"Yes, it does, Laurance," she says, white gown floating around her dark skin, beaming just as warmly as the sun behind her, "luckily for him, he's already been introduced."

Garroth watches Laurance frown, equally as confused as he is, before his eyes widen in realisation. He looks at Garroth quickly, and then back to Venus in disbelief. 

"No, that's impossible," he says, "I've been waiting for so long-"

She smiles. "You're one of the longest waiters here, Laurance, but everyone's time comes eventually," 

"I- I don't understand," Garroth says, but Laurance just beams at him, with the greatest irony of having stars in his eyes. 

"Garroth, meet your soulmate: your other half, your star for the rest of time," Venus says, with all the pride of a mother watching her children grow old. Garroth watches tears of joy slip past Laurance's cheeks, pure beauty in his expression, relief seeping out of him, "Laurance, it looks like your time has finally come. I am so happy for you."

Laurance sobs out, arm flying over his face to shield his tears. "Oh, thank you, Venus, thank you so much,"

"Do not thank me," she requests, "he is only what is best for you as one of my most trusted stars." 

Garroth cannot react. He's frozen still, mind still processing this new information, face still stuck in a frown. Is he going to be with Laurance forever? Is Laurance the only person who can bring him eternal happiness? What does all of this mean? 

When Laurance turns to him, though, teary-eyed, smiling brighter than a thousand moons, he decides he doesn't care. All he'll ever have to worry about is pleasing him now. He's okay with that. He understands what Laurance said when he told him that the pain will be worth it. 

Because now that he knows they were made for each other, he can't help but love him. 

Ultimately, after staring at each other in shock for what feels like hours (and what is probably mere seconds), Garroth feels a pull to him, a string tying them together, bound and written in fate, and suddenly their hands are connecting, fingers intertwining, acting as if they were the only people to exist, and as they move little closer, their stars become one with the touch of their lips together. It's perfect. It's artistry. It blankets over every problem they might have to face. Nothing matters but their connection anymore. They can't feel anything but pure, scalding, unconditional love. 

It's warm, so warm, and neither of them have ever felt such relief than when they open their eyes again, and it's just the two of them, alone in their own star, existing as one drop of gold - one entity - for the rest of time. It has been so long. Too long to wait. After hundreds of thousands of years, what was meant to be - what was inevitable, what was destiny, what was fated since the beginning - finally is.

Everything will be okay. Even if hardships hold them back from complete peace, their connection is destiny. Written in the stars since the beginning of time. 

And what is in the stars can never be erased.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, and please don’t forget to donate to my ko-fi: ko-fi.com/epiphanistic
> 
> thank you for your support; please stay safe :))


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